Remembred By One - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Randy glanced from his phone
to the ugly dark sky above. More rain was coming. The sticky warmth already had
him sweating, and it was muggy as shit. The crows in the neighbor’s trees were
having an epic argument over something that could easily be resolved if Randy
could only get his hands on the big one and ring its squawky goddamn neck.
Maybe they were cranky, too. Mason’s back yard had spawned a bloodthirsty plague
of giant mosquitoes and they were sucking the blood out of everything in sight.

Randy smiled. Still the best
day he’d ever had.

Even with the background
ache in his arm, the cold, hard fact he was now homelessand the fifteen minutes he’d spent apartment hunting suggested
it was going to be hell on Earth finding a place, nothing could beat to the
perfection of this day.

Except maybe more sex and
cuddling time, but that would be pushing his luck, right? They hadn’t gotten
out of bed for hours, and they’d spent a good chunk of those hours kissing and touching,
and on Randy’s part, mauling. For some reason, he couldn’t seem keep his hands to
himself. Apparently, he even did it in his asleep. Mason had accused him of
being a bed hog, when really, he’d just been a Mason hog.

Not that he’d be keen to confess
the reason behind his awkwardness. Mason was used to sleeping with someone,
whereas Randy always slept alone.

Mason finally kicked him
out of bed—well, off the bed, ‘cuz all he had was a mattress on the floor, and
grouchily informed him they would have to continue their fling later because he had things on his agenda for the day. His
fucking agenda. But the prospect of
flinging later? Yeah. He’d fling Mason over his shoulder and see if his mouth
was as talented as his hands…

“Ready to go?” Mason
asked, interrupting his fruitless search for place to live that wouldn’t suck
up his every last dollar.

“Yup.” He drained the
last sip of his coffee and wished for another. Mason made great coffee. “What
route we taking again?”

“The one that crosses under
the power lines. It used to love riding my bike there when I could get away
with it.”

Which meant more noisy
birds and even more mosquitoes. Not that Randy minded, or cared what they did
together, all that mattered was that Mason had invited him. Spending more time with
Mason? Hell yeah, he was all over that. It had been so long since they’d done
anything together, that even Mason’s weird quest to find that kid from the old
photo sounded like fun. “Do you still have a back gate? I can’t see shit
through all those weeds back there.”

“No. Since no one was
using it except druggies trying to steal stuff, Nat had it permanently closed
off.”

“No biggie. We can get
onto the path next street over.”

“Have you been there
recently? What’s the trail like?” Mason gave him a surprised glance, then when
he noticed the way Randy was looking at him, turned shy.

Considering the places
Mason had had his hands not more than an hour ago, and the things Randy had
done to Mason with his one fully functioning hand, how could he possibly feel
shy now? “Sometimes I just need to get away and think.” Randy shrugged. “Seemed
like as good a spot as any, and it’s close by.”

“Oh.”

“So let’s get going.” If
they didn’t, Mason was going start feeling all guilty again. God, why had he
told Mason about the abuse? That was fucking stupid. And embarrassing. It had
just popped right out of his mouth all by itself and now he couldn’t take it
back.

Most of the people who
used the trail now were dog walkers. Running into someone with a friendly mutt
always cheered him up because he could sneak in a pet or two as they passed
each other. Growing up, he’d never had a cat or dog. Old man probably would’ve
beaten it to death so it was probably for the best, not that it stopped him
from wanting one.

Sadly, they had the trail
to themselves. No dogs anywhere. The early walkers had gone to work and the
lazy ones weren’t out and about yet. But he did have Mason, who kept giving him
more of those shy, almost confused, glances as they walked. Those shy peeks,
together with Mason’s unusually messy hair and his faded jeans were really
turning Randy on. And they were all alone out here… “So,” Randy drawled, “now
that we’re having a fling, does this mean I can kiss you whenever I want?”

Mason stopped short.
“What?”

‘What’
was not ‘fuck you, Randy Porterhouse’,
so he grabbed Mason around the waist and yanked him close. Before Mason could
protest, not that it looked like he was going to, he covered Mason’s mouth with
his own.

Oh, yeah. Just as good as
it had been an hour ago. Or the hour before that. Startled at first, it took
Mason a few seconds to relax and get into it. When he did, he didn’t hold back.
Their lips and tongues instantly got reacquainted and they were soon sharing
spit and soft groans. Simply touching Mason—anywhere—made him hard and he
grabbed Mason by the ass, tugged him closer and rubbed their groins together.

Mason tore his mouth away
and gasped, “Randy, you can’t just—”

“What? Kiss you?”

“That wasn’t just a
kiss!”

“Sure it was.” So there
was a lot of tongue and grinding involved. Big deal. “And I really want to do
it some more.”

“Someone might see us!”

“So? Fuck ‘em. Let ‘em
watch.” He chuckled. “But they’ll have to rub one out on their own. I’m not
sharing you.”

“Randy!”

He sighed and relaxed his
grip on Mason’s ass. “Let’s go into the bushes then, and jerk each other off in
private.”

Mason’s mouth fell open
on a shocked gasp. Big mistake. Randy hooked his cast around Mason’s shoulder,
leaned in and thrust his tongue in Mason’s mouth. Hopefully one day soon, once Mason
got used the idea of them being together as more than friends, it would be his
dick he got to thrust between those pouty red lips. Randy was patient. After
all, he’d been waiting for Mason for twenty years. What was another day or two?

As they kissed and necked
and Randy scraped his scruff along Mason’s neck because it made Mason shiver
every time he did it, he started herding his prey off the path, through the
weeds and scrub into a secluded spot out of sight of anyone coming along the
path.

Once he realized what Randy
had done, Mason finally balked. “You can’t be serious!”

“Why not? You’re horny,”
Randy switched his hand from Mason’s ass to the thick bulge at the front, filling
his hand with a hard, eager cock that leapt at his touch. “And I’m definitely
horny.” Randy nudged Mason a few steps further and behind a few bushes in full
leaf. They were now completely hidden from view. “Come here, little boy. If you
show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

For a few seconds, Mason
couldn’t find any words. Randy had always liked watching Mason sputter over the
results of his latest prank, and Mase didn’t disappoint him now. “You’re out of
your fucking mind!”

Where had he heard that
before?

A dead, partially fallen
tree worn free of bark caught Mason in the lower back when Randy backed him
against it. Now he couldn’t escape. Not that he tried. In fact, when Randy popped
the top button and slid Mason’s zipper down, Mason gasped instead of offering
up even a single word of complaint. His breathing sped up. His eyes fell shut.

“Yeah, that’s what I
thought.” Horny, and raring to go. Randy took him firmly in hand and drew out a
long, slow pull. Mason’s eyes flew open and he gasped loudly. Randy chuckled,
and shoved Mason’s pants down to his knees. He leaned in and nuzzled Mason’s
ear. “Better be quiet, Mase. Someone might hear you groaning and come
investigate.”

“Yeah, yeah. More hand
action and less talking, Novak.” Randy had never been more annoyed at the
stupid, cumbersome cast than he was right this minute. He wanted two goddamn
hands. One to jack Mason and the other to cover his mouth. He suspected Mason
would probably get off even harder on that, because someone clearly liked a little manhandling with his sex. “Unzip
me,” he said instead. “And get busy before the skeeters bite us both on the ass.”

Mason seemed to like
taking orders too, because his agile fingers unerringly found Randy’s button.
Because of his broken arm and how hard it was wrangle on clothing one handed,
he could no longer wear his button fly jeans and he’d never been more thankful.
Zippers were faster. Once the button popped out and a bit of the zipper went
down, his cock head popped out, eager for some action.

“Zipper’s stuck on your
hard on!”

“Tug harder. Come on—you want
it or not?”

With a more determined
pull on the tab, Mason freed the rest of his length from the snug denim. “Fuck,
you’re hard,” he panted as Randy worked up a good rhythm. “And goddamn thick.”

“Use both hands.”

“How?”

“However you want. You’ll
figure it out.”

Which he did, in about ten
seconds. Mason busied one hand playing with his balls while the other stroked.
“Squeeze harder.” Mason firmed up the next stroke and tugged harder on his sack.
“Yeah, like that. Work it like you mean it.”

Never hurt to ask for
what you wanted, did it?

As for Mason, all Randy
had to do was watch his body language. It was easy to see, and hear, what Mason
liked best. He was so sexy taking pleasure from Randy’s hand, and licking his
lips and panting. Plus the faces he made—yeah. Totally into it. After a few
tries, Randy found the magic spot under Mason’s cockhead that turned him into a
slave to sensation. At the end of every stroke, Randy thumbed that spot while
giving his wrist a slight twisting squeeze around the engorged head.

“Christ,” Mason moaned.
“That’s—that’s so good.”

“You mean this?” He
slicked his thumb with some of Mason’s pre-cum and tried the thumb rub-wrist
twist again.

That time Mason actually
cried out. “Yeah, that. Exactly that.”

“I’m going to make you
come so hard,” he promised. Mason opened his eyes, but the glazed look said the
man himself wasn’t really home at the moment. Randy fell into those blue depths
anyway. Now that Mason was climbing toward the edge, his slit leaked fast and
furious. Every few strokes, Randy greased his palm with a quick slide over the slippery
head, easing the next tight stroke. “Yeah, that it’s it, Mase. Go for it.”

As he peaked, Mason’s
hands faltered and Randy grunted in disappointment. The little head was so
demanding. But it could wait its turn.

“Sorry,” Mason panted.

“You can make it up to me
after you come.” Randy stroked harder. Relentlessly. “On your knees.”

Well, well. Mason really
liked that idea. His hips stuttered, trying to thrust faster, while Randy held
him back and determined the pace. Cruel maybe, but edging made for such a sweet
orgasm in the end. Randy teased him for a few more hard, but deliberately not
hard enough strokes, and drove Mason crazy. He increased the pace and
whispered, “You like the idea of that, huh? Of being on your knees? Of seeing
how much of my cock you can cram in your mouth?”

“Oh, God!”

“Yes, or no, Mase.” Randy
swiped the edge of his thumb in the slippery slit. “You want to suck my cock?”

Mason groaned. Loudly.

“What?”

“Yes!”

Exactly what he hoped to
hear. He should be rewarded for that. Randy jacked him to the finish line, moving
sideways at the last second so he could watch Mason shoot his load onto the
forest floor and not on the only shirt he had. Watching Mason’s face so he’d
know when to let up and not overstimulate him, Randy kept working Mason’s cock,
closer to the head now, prolonging his climax. When Mason shuddered and grabbed
Randy’s wrist, he let up and finished the hand job with a long, dirty kiss.

Mason didn’t leave him
hanging for long. After they kissed, Mason yanked up his pants and picked up
where he left off, his hands sure and swift. Being a quick learner, Mason worked
it like he meant it. When he had Randy on the verge, his knees shaking and toes
tingling, he went to drop to his knees. “Wait—” Randy gasped. Was he insane? He
was about to turn down a blow job? “I’m so close. Just finish me.”

Using the same thumb-wrist-jerk
trick, Mason had him peaking in seconds. Fuck—dude was really good at this.
Plus, he had two hands and knew how to use them. Synchronized, too. Randy’s
hands began to tremble. “Please, Mase…oh, fuck please…”

From his toes to his
balls, everything tightened at once, including his hand on Mason’s shoulder,
the one he planned to shove him his knees with, but it was too late. Much too
late. Mason skillfully brought him to the edge and pushed him over. The orgasm
rolled over him, so hard and fast he couldn’t even catch his breath.

When the beast was
finally drained and he could breathe again, he opened his eyes to Mason’s
satisfied smirk.

Sneaky son of a bitch. How
had he lost this round? Not that he’d call coming that forcefully losing or anything. Randy broke out in a
shaky laugh. Mason grinned back, and oh god, he was so beautiful. Did he have
any idea what he did to Randy just with that smile?

Still amused—or just happy—Mason
adjusted his underwear and jeans and zipped up.

“You have cum on your
hand.” Randy’s cum. The dirty thrill of that gave Randy a pleasant aftershock,
which turned into outright full body shudder when, still smirking, Mason lifted
his hand to his mouth and licked it. “Fuck…” Randy gasped. The beast stirred. Down boy!

Smiling wickedly, Mason
rubbed the rest of it off on the lower leg of his jeans. “Better put that away
Randy, before the mosquitoes find it. Looks tasty.”

“I dunno if I want to put
it away. You’re making it hard again.”

“Horndog.”

“Sue me.”

“Let’s go.”

After tucking the beast back
where it belonged, Randy sighed and slapped a mosquito drilling for blood in his
forearm. “Fine. But after we’re done looking for your needle in a haystack, you
gotta help me break into my dad’s house.” Randy took Mason’s hand and held it
back to the path.

“Break into your…what?” Mason’s eyes opened wide.

“I want my stuff. And your
mom’s letter.”

“Don’t you have a key?
You are—were living there.”

Ah, Mason. He had no idea
how Randy’s father worked. “By dinner yesterday afternoon, he would’ve had the
locks changed.”

“Seriously? That fast?”

“Oh, yeah. He wouldn’t
care how much it cost either. He’d pay anything to spite me. My stuff’s
probably all in the garbage by now.” Or scattered on the front lawn with holes
in it. “I hope he knows better than to touch my car.”

“What a fucking bastard.”

“You have no idea.
Really, Mason. No idea.” And Randy planned to keep it that way. No need to
taint Mason with that shit. “So, you gonna help me?” In actuality, Randy
expected Mason to say no. Ever since they’d been little, Mase had been the
law-abiding sort. He’d suggest a lawyer. Again. Like, who had money for that?

Mason stumbled, his shoe
catching on…nothing. “You do what?
You masturbate perving over fantasies of me?”

“Sure, why not? You’re
fucking hot.”

“I am not. And you’re
disgusting.”

That right there was why
Randy would never cheat on anyone. Provided he ever found someone to cheat on.
It fucking destroyed people. But they were having fun and Randy wasn’t going to
ruin it by bringing up Richard and how much Randy wanted to punch him in his
lying, cheating face. “So, is that your permanent position on the matter? Or
can I try buttering you up and trying for a better position later on?” Randy
waggled his brows.

“Oh, my god, you're such
a dog.”

“Is that a yes?”

Mason laughed. “No.”

Damn, but he had all
summer to change Mason’s mind. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

Mason laughed—honest to
god laughed. Been far too long since Randy had heard that wonderful sound.
“Maybe I want to fuck you. You ever think of that?”

Oh, yeah? Mason couldn’t
fool Randy who knew a bottom when he had one moaning in his hands. But what if
he was wrong? Lots of guys liked to switch it up. Could Randy? “I might let
ya.” Under certain conditions. “You’d have to get me pretty wasted first.”
Which was a good way to ruin sex it you asked him. “And use lots of lube.”

Raising one brow, Mason
said, “Of course. Lube is good.”

Taking it up the ass
would be all kinds of weird. And contrary to the proper order of things. But
all the guys he’d ever fucked liked it, so it had to be good, right? Randy
could usually get them begging in no time flat. “It’s still good the first time
though, right? You’ll make sure I get off?” Because he didn’t want to waste one
minute of sex time with Mason on something that hurt or felt uncomfortable or
downright fucking weird.

Mason stopped so abruptly
that Randy, following right behind, smacked into his back.

“Wait.”

Wait? For what? Since
they were stopped anyway, Randy breathed hotly on the back of Mason’s neck,
then kissed the spot where he’d blown away his hair. Mason shivered violently,
the swatted him away. He had an incredulous look on his face when he turned.
“Do you mean you haven’t done it? Haven’t been fucked?”

Jeez—you’d think Mason
had never heard of such a concept. “Nope.”

“Randy…how is that
possible…”

Mason seemed at a loss
for words. “I always want to be the one doing the fucking.” Again, he waggled
his brows. “Nobody’s ever complained.”

“Never?”

“Nope.” That wasn’t to
say he hadn’t felt a finger or two up there, which, when getting blown, felt
pretty damned good. “But I’d let you do me.” Even if Mr. Novak’s tool was on the
longish side, he’d bend over for it. In fact, the beast already approved and
twitched with interest. “Whaddya say, Mase? Wanna pop my cherry?” There’d never
been anyone else he trusted enough to allow it. But Mason could have him.

Mason stood there, eyes
wide and staring, lips parted in shock. After a few seconds, Randy nudged him
under the chin with his knuckles and closed his mouth. “Mosquitoes will get in
there.”

“You’re thirty-four.”

“Thanks, I know.”

“How can you be
thirty-four, gay and never tried it?”

What was the big deal?
Randy shrugged. “Never wanted to. If I get lucky and meet a guy, and we hook
up, I always want to fuck him.” And they always wanted it that way too. “Maybe
I’m only attracted to guys who want my dick in their ass.” He’d never thought
about it before. “I mean I’d never go with a guy who wanted to top me in the
first place and they’d never try to pick me up, either. We all know what each
other wants. Why waste time barking up the wrong tree?”

“Oh, good god.”

“When I go out hunting,
I’m after someone like you.” Actually, someone exactly like Mason because he never stood a change of having the
real man. Until now. Not that Mason was going to stick around or anything.
Their fling would end as soon as summer did.

“And what exactly is someone like me?”

He had to ask? And why
did he sound so defensive all of a sudden? Sensing a trap, Randy measured his
words carefully. But in the end he decided to keep it real. “Someone who wants
to get it, because I love to give it. A bottom. Not that I’m a big fan of
labels, but yeah, let’s call it what it is.”

“And you think that’s
me?”

“I know that’s you. Sure,
you might like to switch it up once in a while, but what you crave most being
shoved face down and ass-fucked to within an inch of your life.”

That’s what they all
said. As if admitting it made them less manly somehow. Didn’t they know it was
the other way around? Tops had it easy. They weren’t putting themselves in a vulnerable
position. But that wasn’t the real issue here. “You’re right Mason, I don’t
know you at all.” Aside from the last five years, only most of his life. But
what was Randy to him except his obnoxious neighbor?

Mason stomped down the
path a few yards, turned, then stomped back. “That’s not what I mean and you
damned well know it.”

“Know what? I’m not a
fucking mind reader.”

“Look—I know you know me.
Fuck, you know me better than anyone except my mom and Ginny. Better than my
own father. Hell, you probably even know me better than Richard ever did, and I
lived with him for five stupid, fucking years.” At the mention of Richard’s
name, Mason’s shoulders slumped. “But you don’t know that part of me. You have
no idea what kind of man I turned into or who I am inside.”

Or the sexual man, with that
being part of what Mase meant, but couldn’t say. “But I’d like to.”

“And I told you I didn’t
have that to give.”

True, he had. Randy had
even listened, and agreed to those terms. Randy nodded. Mason pressed his lips
together and in that split second, the broken version of Mason Novak
reappeared. Gone was the fun Mason who’d just jerked him off in the bushes and
laughed from the joy of it. Now he just looked sad, and sad wouldn’t do. Hating
seeing him like that, Randy pulled Mason against his chest and wrapped his arms
around his stiff and unyielding shoulders, and hugged him.

“I accepted your terms,
Mase. I’m only after what you want to give me.” Because anything beyond that
would just be a lie. “I just wanna have fun with you this summer, like we used
to. Do I wanna fool around with you? Hell, yeah. But sex isn’t just fucking,
you know. We can still have fun without that, if you don’t want to do it.”

“Right,” Mason snorted.

“I mean it.” As much as
Randy wanted to pound Mason through the mattress, it wasn’t necessary. It
wasn’t a deal breaker. “An orgasm is still an orgasm, no matter how you get
there. So if all that’s on offer is hand jobs and blow jobs, I’m okay with
that.”

Mason looked at him, long
and steady.

“But please tell me blow
jobs are on the table, ‘cuz I really like those.”

A smile flickered over
Mason’s lips. “Giving? Or just receiving? You’re not too toppy to return the favor, are you?”

Randy laughed. “Not too
toppy, nope. I love giving head. I will suck you off any chance I get.”

The flickering smile turned
into a smirk. “You’re going to have to prove that, Porterhouse.”

“Right now?”

“No, not right now, you
horny bastard!”

Not that Randy couldn’t
get it up right now, or anything, and he suspected Mason would have no problem
either. But Mason had his agenda, and Randy needed to get his shit and his car
at precisely two this afternoon when the old man would be out seeing yet
another doctor…so blow jobs would have to wait. Not only that, the mosquitoes
were swarming and he wanted to have some blood left for later. “Come on then,
let’s get this show on the road. We ain’t gonna find your smiley friend
standing around getting eaten alive.”

Randy strode by Mason,
grabbed his hand, and started walking down the path.

After few moments of
quiet, and right as the path opened up onto the road, Mason said, “No one’s
ever complained, huh?”

For a few seconds, Randy
had no idea what Mason meant. He’d be strolling along singing a happy tune. In
his head. Because he couldn’t sing worth shit. Then he remembered. “Not one.”
Not even the first guy he’d ever done, and Randy had climaxed in about two thrusts
and totally embarrassed himself.

“Not even one of your old
boyfriends? One that really hates you?”

“Definitely not.” Because
he’d never had a boyfriend, so technically, that wasn’t a lie.

“Bullshit.”

“You think so?” Who the
hell had Mason been sleeping with? Losers. All of them. “What’s there to
complain about when I give ‘em what they want?”

“Oh, my God, you’re so
conceited.”

“No, I’m not. I’m just
good.”

Mason rolled his eyes, shook
his head and wandered onto the pitted, pot-holed road. He was smiling. Randy
could tell. Chuckling, Randy followed after him.

Mason pulled his phone
from his back pocket and turned back to face him. “I think you’re lying. Just yanking
my chain.”

“Only one way for you to
find out.” Randy grinned. Mason never could resist a challenge. Or a mystery.
Sucker. “But I’ll leave that decision up to you.”

Instead of a comment,
because Randy had stumped him, Mason gave him the finger. Which he used to fiddle
around on his phone with. “Hold on a sec.”

“Why?”

“I want a new photo for the
memory box.”

“The what?”

“I’ll show you later.”

“Ooh, sounds like fun.
Show and tell was good back there in the bushes.”

With a heavy sigh, Mason
shook his head and held up his phone. “Smile.”

What the hell. Randy did.
Then Mason took one of them together and they examined the results. Randy butted
Mason’s shoulder. “We look good together.” But then, any photo with Mason smiling
in it would look good.

“We do, don’t we?” Mason joked,
puffing out his chest. But that didn’t make it any less true.

Before Mason put his
phone away, he scrolled though a bunch of other pictures until blondie’s bright
smile lit up the screen. “I emailed you a copy so you could show anyone who
thinks they might remember something.”

“From almost thirty years
ago? In this neighborhood?” A long, ugly row of townhouses and apartment
buildings in varying states of decay stretched out before them. Nobody around here
stayed longer than strictly necessary before they hightailed to better digs as
fast as their broken-ass Impalas could get them there. “You’re nuts if you
think anyone around here will remember anything past last week.”

“I’ll do all the talking,
if you don’t want to.”

Like that would end well.
“Someone’s gonna shoot you, you know that, right?”

Mason scoffed. “You’re
such a skeptic.”

“No, I’m a realist. We’re
gonna die.”

“How ‘bout a little
wager, then?”

“Yeah? What’re you
offering?” Hopefully something that began with Mason on his knees and ended in
his mouth.

“Winner picks dinner.”

“What? Dinner? That’s
all?” Randy only pretended to be disappointed. Truth be told, getting to pick whatever
he wanted to have for dinner was almost as good as getting blown. Because…BBQ.
And cold beer. His stomach growled loudly.

Mason, standing right
beside him, heard. “Whoever gets a clue, wins.”

“Well, here’s a clue for
you right now. We’re gonna starve to death.” Randy smirked. “But that’s okay.
You’re not supposed to eat after getting shot. Makes you barf during surgery.”

“So you’re giving up
already? I win by default?”

At that taunt, Randy’s spine
stiffened, even though he knew Mason was baiting him. And doing it well. They’d
always egged each other on, and responding to any challenge was an ingrained habit.

Challenging him further,
Mason added, “Hope you like tofu.”

“What the fuck? Tofu? Tofu?”

“I’m thinking of becoming
a vegetarian.”

“Like hell you are!”
Randy snatched his phone from his pocket. Where was that goddamned email? “We’re
having fucking steak. Porterhouse
steaks, you fucking loser. They’re expensive, but since you’re buying… Grill
mine rare, too. Because that’s what I want when I win.”

Grinning, Mason picked
the side of the road with the fewest number of derelict buildings, and sauntered
that way. Fuck he had a great ass. “Bring it, asshole,” Mason called over his
shoulder.

He’d be bringing it, all
right. Randy stomped to the other side of the road. Tofu, his ass. They were
having steak and salad. With fried potatoes because Mason needed the calories.
And after that…

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About Me

I'm a writer of erotic paranormal romance (GLBT), a mother of two and servant to a dog and a pair of demanding cats. I'd love to stay home all day and either write novels or read them, but alas, the Evil Day Job keeps me busy (and with a roof over my head). Since I'm scared to touch my website (and my web manager thanks me) I've created this blog to provide updates on my Works In Progress.